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by fullofstarlight



Category: Mad Men
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 06:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullofstarlight/pseuds/fullofstarlight
Summary: Don never gets the chance to tell Betty how he feels in the coat shop. The two meet again in 1958 at Sterling Cooper.





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**Author's Note:**

> I just finished the series and couldn't help but wonder what Betty could have been had she not wasted her life away as a housewife. I know a lot of people hate Betty Draper. She's a very complicated woman, but she was also a product of her time. I don't exactly agree with a lot of the things she's does, but I can't help but feel bad for her. So, I wrote this, because I can't help but wonder what she could have been.

_ November 1958 _

 

Time seems to tick by. One moment she’s off to college, the next moment she’s modeling in Italy, and now it seems that her modeling career is starting to fall away from her. She’s getting too old,  _ or at least that’s what she thinks _ . She’s twenty-six now. She’s not the fresh young face she was in her early twenties. In four years, she’ll be thirty. Her roommate reassures her that she’s being over dramatic, but neither of them are seeing as many jobs they used to see.

 

Her mother warns her that as her beauty fades so will her prospects for marriage. Her mother warns that maybe she should let go of her dreams and settle down with a man that can provide for her. Betty goes back and forth. It’s would be wise marry soon, but she has no one in her life that seems to be interested in marriage. She doesn’t understand. She’s beautiful. She comes from a wealthy family. She’s a model for god’s sake. Men should be falling at her feet for her.

 

_ But, they aren’t. _ So, Betty has resigned to this job interview. She won’t tell her mother, but right now she needs the money. Her modelling career has seem to have stalled, and she’s just too exhausted to continuously call her father for money. It will just be until her next big break or until she finds a man worthy of marrying her. 

 

Roger Sterling approaches her. Betty rises to her feet and does her best to offer her best smile. He offers her hand. “Miss Hofstadt, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“The pleasure is entirely mine,” Betty smiles as her eyes meet Roger’s.

 

~*~

 

It’s her first day of work. A stunning red headed woman is the first to show her around the building. Betty looks to Joan. She’s beautiful --  _ too beautiful _ . She feels threatened, but she’s not entirely sure why. She mentally soothes herself.  _ It’s all in your mind _ , she thinks. There’s no reason to be threatened by the woman. Her mother has taught her to feel this way. It’s why she feels angry at Juanita whenever she gets modeling gigs. It’s why she scrutinizes woman in auditions that she feels threatened by. Her mother taught her this. Betty knows this, and she’s starting to learn that it’s not going to do her any favors.

 

Joan walks her to her desk. “You will be working primarily with Mr. Draper.”

 

Betty sits at her desk. Her hands shake as a familiar nervousness seems to come over her. It’s the same nervousness she gets whenever she’s at an audition and all the times she’s been placed in uncomfortable situations with men in her modelling career. She forces the thought of one particular incident where one of her bosses shoved her against a wall and forced his hands underneath her clothes. Her quivering hands are now trembling with fear.

 

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, MIss Hofstadt,” Joan says. “The first day goes by quicker than you might expect.” 

 

“Thank you, Miss Holloway,” Betty says.

 

Joan studies her for a moment. “You’re a dead ringer for Grace Kelly.”

 

The red head leaves her at the desk. Betty smiles at the compliment. She turns to her typewriter. All the sounds and voices in the office seem to overwhelm her. She was supposed to be famous or married by now. Betty looks around at all the different sorts of women that are typing away at their desks. Her hands still shake as she processes her new environment.  _ It is just for now _ . That’s what she’s been telling herself since she initially applied for the job. 

 

_ A job she hasn’t even bothered to tell her mother about.  _ Betty feels tears sting her eyes. She fights them. There’s no reason to make a scene. Her mother has warned her about making a fool of herself in public.

 

“So, you’re the new girl?”

 

Betty looks up to see a man clad in a business suit. She’s seen this man before, but she can’t quite remember where. 

 

“Betty Hofstadt,” he looks to her.

 

“I’m sorry, sir. Have we met before?” she asks. 

 

“You don’t remember?” he smiles at her. “You modeled for Heller’s. You were engaged to a lawyer the last time I saw you."

 

It all comes back to her in an instant. _Donald Draper._ She knew she had heard that name before. She releases a deep sigh as a smile forms on her face. She does this nervous little laugh. 

 

“I remember you, Mr. Draper,” she says. 

 

“So, are you and Mr. Stanley still together.”

 

“I’m afraid not,” Betty replies. “It’s all for the best.”

 

She swallows nervously at the memory of her family's disappointment when the engagement dissolved before her eyes. Christopher Stanley was the perfect specimen for a husband in her mother’s eyes. It’s too bad the man had a wandering eye.

 

“Miss Hoffstadt,” he says. “I’m sure there are thousands of men that would give anything to be in Christopher Stanley’s position.”

 

Betty smiles. “I suppose so.”

 

~*~

 

Two weeks fly by. Betty doesn’t hate her job, but she doesn’t mind it much either. Many of the office girls have befriended her. The new companionship is nice. The escape from days flying by with no work now have a new sense of purpose. The phone rings.

 

“You’ve reached the office of Donald Draper. This is Miss Hofstadt speaking on his behalf…”

 

“So, it’s true then? You’ve gotten that job…”

 

Betty feels a familiar tension come over her at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Who told you?”

 

“Juanita told me that you were working when I called your apartment,” her mother says with disdain.

 

“ _ Mom _ ,” her voice is tense with warning. “I’m at work right now. Can we have this conversation at a later time?”

 

“Elizabeth, if you need money just ask your father,” she says. “You don’t need to be working at  _ that place _ .”

 

A part of her considers her mother’s offer, but she can’t bring herself to quit. “Look, I’m just doing this right now until I find something better. I don’t have time to argue right now. I’m at work.”

 

She hangs up. Her hands are shaking. She’s filled with a rush of adrenaline, but also this feeling of regret. Betty leans back into her seat. She looks to her typewriter. She has deadlines to hit. Her hands seem to still themselves as she reaches to her typewriter.

 

_ February 1959 _

 

_ Cancer _ , Betty looks around the office.  _ Her mother has cancer.  _ She’s not quite sure how or why. She feels this overwhelming sense of gloom come over her. One of her friends had remarked that it might have been from the cigarettes. It’s all nonsense and silly wives tales. Betty reaches her into her purse for her pack of Lucky Strikes. She pulls one from the package and places it in her mouth. She wants to light it, but she can’t bring herself to do so.

 

_ May 1959 _

 

The men are talking about some perfume line when Betty walks into the office. The guys are all laughing to one another at some off color joke. She hands a folder to Mr. Draper. He thanks her and she turns to leave.

 

“Miss Hofstadt,” Mr. Draper calls to her.

 

“Yes, Mr. Draper,” she turns back to him.

 

“What kind of perfume do you use?” he asks.

 

“I’ve always used Chanel,” she answers.

 

“Why?” Mr. Draper asks.

 

“I’m not actually sure,” she says. “It makes me feel like  _ me _ if that makes any sense.”

 

“Interesting,” Mr. Draper says. “That will be all.”

 

~*~

 

_ Chanel becomes the woman you are.  _ Betty looks to the poster. She’s not sure why Mr. Draper is showing her the advertisement.

 

“They liked it,” Mr. Draper says. 

 

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to tell me,” Betty says.

 

“You said your perfume makes you feel like yourself,” Mr. Draper explains. 

 

Betty smiles. “ _ I did, didn’t I? _ ”

 

She leaves the office with a smile. She sits at her desk. A smug feeling of accomplishment comes over her. She hasn’t felt this way since she first graduated from college. 

 

_ November 1959 _

 

Her mother is gone --  _ the same mother that hated her working here _ . Betty thinks it might be time to leave. She’s debated this each day since her mother passed. Today she means to make good on her father’s words. He’ll introduce her to this nice man he’s procured for her and she’ll settle down. 

 

“Miss Hofstadt,” Joan is standing at her desk. “It seems the powers that be like your work here.”

 

“Do they?” Betty is confused by Joan’s presence and sudden compliment. 

 

“Mr. Draper has carved out a new place for you,” she says. “Looks like you’re a copywriter now.”

 

She opens her mouth to explain to Joan that she’s supposed to quit today. The words are on the tip of her tongue.

 

“I suppose I owe him a thank you,” she says.

 

“That you do,” Joan chides.

 

Joan leaves her at her desk. She thinks to maybe run back to Joan. She means to tell her that she’s quitting, but she  _ just can’t _ .

 

~*~

 

“I’m not going to quit, daddy!” Betty screams into the phone. “I don’t even know what I want anymore, okay, but I’m not coming home!”

 

She slams the phone into the receiver and dissolved into tears. This stupid job has gotten to her head.  _ This stupid, stupid job! _

 

_ July 1960 _

 

“Every little girl wants to be a princess, don’t they?” Pete looks to Betty when he asks the question.

 

Betty remembers herself as a little girl. She had wanted to be a princess. “Yes, I suppose they do. I did at that age.”

 

“You look like you could be a princess,” Don Draper comments.

 

She feels her cheeks burn at her comment. She imagines her cheeks are now a shade of dark red. She lowers her gaze to the table to conceal her blushing cheeks.

 

“I think every little girl wants to be a princess when she’s younger, yes,” Betty looks down at all the drawings of barbie dolls on the table. “But, I think that maybe a princess doll is redundant. Maybe, an actress would be more suitable. Aren’t starlets the princesses of our time?  _ Doris Day, Elizabeth Taylor, Marilyn Monroe _ \-- every girl wants to be one of them. Before I worked here, I modeled with that same dream.”

 

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Pete grins at her. “You have the face for it.”

 

Betty ignores the comment. She’s become use to deflecting men in the office at this point that it’s second nature.

 

“My mom hated that I worked here,” Betty muses. “My dad too. I think that they thought it wasn’t right for me to be here. My job gives me a sense of purpose. I think that being an actress is a woman’s dream, because it gives them a sense of purpose and freedom. Maybe some dream that they can be more than they are. Barbie isn’t just a doll to girls. She’s who we want to be. She’s beautiful and wears pretty dresses, but maybe she can be more than that.”

 

~*~

 

It’s her lunch break. She’s alone at a small bar near work. She had meant to eat lunch with Joan, but today she just needs to be alone. The loss of her mother can still be felt, but there’s this guilt. Her mother hated her working. It’s not just that though. It’s that Betty  _ loves _ to work. She loves the feeling of accomplishment. Her mother would hate her for it. 

 

She orders another glass of Merlot. The bartender offers her a cigarette, but she declines politely. 

 

“You mind if I have a seat?”

 

Betty knows his voice the minute she hears it. She smiles as she turns to look up at Don Draper.

 

“Of course not,” she says with her sweetest smile.

 

“Whiskey please,” he says to the bartender.

 

The bartender pours him his drink and the two sit in silence.

 

“I’ve been thinking about Heller’s,” Don pauses. “There was this time I used to get so excited to see you every day. I remember I had saved for this mink coat I meant to give to you, but you came in with your engagement ring. I can’t remember ever feeling so disappointed.”

 

Her heart seems to swell at his words. She turns to her glass of wine and takes a small sip. She holds the glass in her hands as his words process.

 

“You must have hid it all so well,” her words quiver as she speaks. “If you never told me this, I would have never known.”

 

“I remember seeing you sitting in front of my office,” his voice is just above a whisper. “The first thing I thought to do was look at your hand for that engagement ring. When I saw that it was gone, I shouldn’t have been as happy as I was. I have this rule not see any of the girls from the office, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the day you started working there.”

 

She sets her glass on the bartop. “I feel it too. Every day. But Don,  _ I don’t know _ . The girls that get to caught up with the men in the office...you know what happens. If it ends badly, the girl just disappears…”

 

“So, what are we going to do about this?” Don asks.

 

She leans her head against his shoulder. “ _ I don’t know… _ ”

 

He places his arm around her waist. She knows how foolish it would be to let this go any farther, but the harder she resists, the more she wants him.

 

“I’m 28 years old, Don,” she whispers. “I can’t lose this job. If whatever this is doesn’t work, I have nowhere to go.”

 

“No one has to know about it but us,” he says. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll just pretend it never happened.”

 

_ October 1960 _

 

“I’m not voting for Nixon,” Betty says. 

 

“ _ Really? _ ” Don turns in the bed to face Betty. “The office would see those as words of betrayal.”

 

Betty laughs. “My father said something similar.  _ How could you? My own daughter voting for a Democrat! _ ”

 

“So, you are a Democrat?” Don smiles as he lights a cigarette. 

 

“I wasn’t always,” Betty says. “But, I’d say so.”

 

“Sometimes I think you just like to make you father mad,” Don says with a half-smile. 

 

Betty raises an eyebrow. She had never considered that. “ _ Maybe. _ My mother and father hated it when I got a job a Sterling Cooper. My father thought it’d make me  _ loose _ . Maybe I am loose.”

 

Don takes a long drag. “No, not loose. You just like your freedom. Not many women at your age have the freedom that you do.”

 

Betty sits up and looks to him. “Does that make me a failure? I’m not married. I don’t have children.”

 

“Maybe in your father’s eyes,” Don pauses to take another drag. “But, I don’t see it that way. Think about it. You answer to no one but yourself. Most women never get that lucky.”

 

Betty crosses her legs and looks to Kennedy on the TV. Her father hates Kennedy. Her mother would hate Kennedy. Her mother hated a lot of things though. 

 

“My mother was very mean spirited,” Betty says. “There was this summer. I got a little bit too  _ big  _ if you know what I mean. My mother was furious. She said I’d never get a husband if I got any bigger. She made it seem like that’s what life was. You get married. You have children. Then, you die. I keep thinking about her life. She was so unhappy, but shouldn’t she have been happy? She kept telling me that the life she led would make me happy, but she was so miserable. I keep asking myself why she was so unhappy…”

 

“I think you already know the answer to your question, Bets,” Don says. 

 

_ November 1960 _

 

There’s a knock on her door. Betty looks up to see Peggy Olsen carrying a cardboard box. “Mr. Draper said he told you about my promotion.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Betty goes to Peggy and takes the cardboard box into her hands. She sets the box down on the empty desk. “It’s going to be nice having another woman in the room.”

 

Peggy smile fades to a grimace. She places her hand on her belly. Her face seems to turn pale as she looks up to Betty.

 

“Miss Hofstadt,” she says. “I don’t feel so swell.”

 

_ December 25, 1960 _

 

Her father hasn’t called. She calls his number. 

 

“Hello,” she hears her father’s voice.

 

“Hi daddy, I just thought I’d wish…”

 

“Betty, I don’t think you should make calls anymore.”

 

“What do you mean?” her heart sinks.

 

“What I mean is that I think you should stop calling.”

 

She drops the phone without hanging it up. Betty leans against the wall. Tears fill her eyes. She’s alone in the world now. 

 

_ January 1961 _

 

She’s sitting across from Peggy. Don had told her everything. The old Betty would have turned her nose at the girl across from her and said so many unkind words. She would have judged her moral character and gossiped at the office. 1958 seems so long ago now. Maybe it isn't just her that's changing. Maybe it's the world around her. 

 

“Mr. Draper told you, didn’t he?” Peggy says to her. 

 

“He’s worried about you,” Betty reassures. 

 

“It’s funny,” Peggy turns her head to the side. “All the girls would say stuff about you and Mr. Draper. They say it’s how you got promoted. I never believed it. I told them they were being so unprofessional, but it’s true, isn’t it? There’s something between you too. It’s just not fair. I do something stupid at the office, and of course, I’m the one that gets pregnant. That's life for me I guess. I'm so unlucky."

 

She turns back to look to Betty. Betty thinks to deny her affair with Don, but ignores it instead.

 

“I don’t know which one of those brutes in the office made this happen,” Betty looks to her. “But, Peggy, you can’t stay here. I’m not going to tell anyone. Don’s not going to tell anyone. Come back to work and forget this happened. Don't waste your life here. You're better than the man that put your here. You're better than this place."

 

Peggy turns her gaze away. Betty squares her shoulder and rises to her feet. She looks down to Peggy.

 

“I’ll see you at work next week, Miss Olsen.”

 

~*~

 

Peggy opens the door to her office. She sees Peggy arranging papers.

 

“It’s good to see you Miss Olsen.”

 

“It’s good to see you too Miss Hofstadt.”

 

_ February 1961 _

 

Betty takes a sip from her wine. Don’s flat is nicer than hers. She thinks for a minute what life would be like if she were a man. Her father would still be talking to her right now if she were born a man instead of a woman. He would be proud of her promotions.

 

She sets her glass of wine down on the table and looks to Don who sits next to her. “My father doesn’t talk to me anymore. He stopped talking to me on Christmas. My mother is gone and my father hates me. I feel like I messed up somewhere.”

 

“I never had a great relationship with my father either,” Don admits. “He wasn’t a good man. Some of us aren't lucky enough to have good parents, Bets."

 

“I want to believe my father is a good man,” Betty’s fingers turn her glass on the table as if it were carousel. “I want to believe I’m the bad one sometimes. I go back to Heller’s in my mind all the time. What if it had happened between us then, Don? I bet my father would still call me every Sunday.”

 

“It wasn’t the right time,” Don says. “Both of us were different people then. We might not have been good for each other.”

 

“When is the right time?” she asks.

 

“Maybe it’s now,” he says.

 

“What do you mean, Don?”

 

He reaches into his coat pocket and takes out a small black box. Her heart races when he opens the box to reveal a diamond ring.

 

“Elizabeth Hofstadt, will you marry me?”


End file.
